The Path Of Madness
by disregard
Summary: I'm not paranoid.They're watching us. They are. Slash.
1. Chapter one

Disclaimer : I don't own H. Potter. Rowling does.

I worry.

I worry about the upcoming war.

And to wonder if my family will actually hold through it all and if we'll survive, _all_ of us… What are the odds?

I worry about Harry. And Hermione too.

He's a hero, not by choice, and is going to be in the front whenever the battle comes. She'll be right at his side.

There are all these other people that I worry about, other than my best friends, other than my family.

Friends and acquaintances, some I care about, some I just know… I don't want them to die, none of them.

There are the changes to come that I worry about.

Though my world is far from perfect, I wouldn't want it to change. None of it.

There are all these insecurities that make me worry too…

Will I be good enough? Won't I screw up when it's time?

….And fears…

Won't I get hurt? The death eaters, the inferis, vampires, army of the dark… And _him_. Won't I get hurt?

And despite it all, in the midst of it all, I still have time to worry about how I'm being taken for granted. I get jealous of Harry and mad at Hermione. I'm chaotic, make a mess out of things and make no sense at all.

I worry too much. I don't worry enough.

But up till now, all of those worries are somewhat understandable. Some more than others, granted, but still… It's normal to worry about these things. Even the jealousy part is, seeing how I've lived in the shadows for such a long time I think my skin has gotten wrinkled…

What's not normal is to worry about _this_.

This, being the fact that I've recently managed to make myself utterly convinced that we are being watched. And yes, by "we" I mean everybody.

Absolutely everyone.

Going back, I can't even remember when it started, this prickle at the back of my neck, this semi-certitude of being watched constantly. But it had, and since then it won't let me be. More than a feeling in my guts, more than instinct, I _know._

As it is a matter of great seriousness, I decide to warn the world.

-

"We're being watched"

Harry's concerned, bless him.

"Do you think…I mean…is it Voldemort?"

"Nope. He's being watched too"

Now, he seems annoyed. He must think I'm crazy.

"I think you're crazy".

Hermione looks at me as if I've grown a second head.

"Are you sure you're okay, Ron?"

"I'm fine, except that I'm being watched. And so are you. And everybody else!"

She must think I'm just being childish.

"For heaven's sake, Ron! Stop being childish!!"

They're my best friends. If they don't believe me, then who will?

"You're not listening! Why are you not listening? I'm telling you, we're being watched."

A sigh, exasperation.

"By whom?" She asks, challenging.

"Um…Someone…Somewhere"

She throws her arms in the air.

"That, Ronald, must be the most idiotic thing I've _ever_ heard."

Now, I'm getting mad.

"If it had been Harry, you wouldn't have doubted him, would you?"

"Leave me out of this"

So, _now_, he talks!

"Harry has a scar connected to you know who on his forehead, Ronald." She snarls. "And _thus_, if and when he says he knows something no one else does, it's rather believable since he often _does_."

Why is it so easy to get her riled up, anyway?

"On the other hand, the only thing tattooed to _your_ forehead is the word: idiot."

And why is she insulting me?

Scar or not, it hits me, the difference between Harry and I in Hermione's eyes. She can't even pretend to take me seriously.

She's talking again, her voice lowered, somewhat soothing.

"It must be the stress of the upcoming NEWTS getting to your head. I've read somewhere that…"

I've already blocked her out.

-

Neville is terrified when I tell him. To a point where I actually have to fake a laugh and tell him I'm kidding. Seamus has this scary glint in his eyes and mutters "kinky"and Dean just shakes his head. "No comments" he says. What's that even supposed to mean?

When I tell Ginny, she has a laughing fit. Next thing I know, I get a howler from Fred and George:

"WE'RE WATCHING YOU, RONALD! WE ARE WATCHING!!!!"

-

Sometimes, I wonder if they're not right, all of them. If I'm not just being stupid, having illusions… But then, I feel it again, at the back of my consciousness. If I turn really fast, I'll catch foreign eyes trained on me.

-

"I believe you" says Luna.

She sneaked up on me, almost gave me a heart attack.

"Huh?"

"I believe you."

She's looking at me. Right through me, I suspect.

"You do?"

I know it's Luna. I _do_. But I still can't help the hope that peers through my voice. No one else said they believed me.

"Sure. I've always known we were being watched"

My heart beats fast, fast.

"And…um…do you know _who_'s watching?"

"Sure"

I hold my breath. Wait for a bit. Let it out.

"Who?" I finally ask.

She looks at me funny.

"I can't say their name." She says as if it's obvious, as if I'm an idiot. " Unless I want to…" Insert dramatic silence. "…DIE!!!"

I can feel the beginning of a headache.

"What I can tell you, though, is that they are dark butterflies, vicious creatures that lurk in the shadows and speak words of hate into your ears. They are watching!"

Yep, definitely a headache.

"Ronald, if you hear your name called once…Do _not_ answer!!"

Cheers, Luna.

At this point, I'm close to tears.

-

I come into the common room. Harry, Ginny, Dean, Hermione and Seamus are all sitting together in one of the further corners.

Seamus says something I can't quite catch and they all burst out laughing.

A smile tugs at my lips as I head towards them. Maybe a good laugh is all I need to feel a bit better.

But as I come closer, watching them still laughing, I frieze in my spot, ears to the ready, heart thumping with no rhythm. And I try to stop myself, I try to pretend…But I can't.

"Quiet!" I find myself whispering harshly.

They all do.

As the silence gets thicker and more awkward, Harry coughs.

"Euh…Ron?"

"Shhh!"

I'm still trying to listen.

"Someone was laughing" I finally share.

More silence, and then…

"_we_ were" says Hermione, with a guarded voice.

I make a noise of exasperation at the back of my throat and dismiss her with a flick of the hand.

"Someone _else_" I tell her.

"Of_ course_!" says Ginny before bursting into laughter, followed closely by Seamus.

Dean is sympathetic.

"God is always watching, Ron".

Harry's green eyes are trained on me with concern while Hermione mutters about "the path of madness" or something of the sort.

Suddenly, I feel alone in a room full of friends.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own . Rowling…She does.

It's quiet outside. Peaceful. Silent.

I've never really learned to appreciate silence but things are different now. I need it to think and so, it's bearable.

Sitting at the edge of the lake, I throw rocks that make a loud splash before sinking in.

I was being watched. We all were.

I'm sure of it, with every fiber of my being.

And the thing is, when enough people tell me that I'm wrong, I usually end up believing them. I usually forget about my instincts and ignore what my guts tell me.

Not this time, though. This time, it's so much bigger than me.

It's like this is a book and someone's turning the pages. It's like this is one of those series thingy muggles watch and we're the actors. It's like it's a big huge exhibition and we're inside the cage and we don't even know it. And people are passing us by, watching us, laughing when it's funny, crying when it's not and rooting for their favorites along the way.

"Are you deaf, Weasley, in addition of being stupid?"

I snap out of my thoughts to find Draco Malfoy standing in front of me, sneer in place.

"What?"

"I called you three times. I strongly dislike being kept waiting"

I sigh.

"Malfoy, I am _not_ in the mood for you."

It's true.

"So, what do you want?"

He stares at me for a couple of seconds. The seconds become a minute and then stretch out to two. He stares for so long I start having goose bumps, fidgeting and, _really_, what's the matter with him? It's just plain weird.

"What??" I snap when I can't take it anymore. "Just…_What?_"

And then, happens the last thing I could've ever expected.

"We're being watched" he says.

And I'm so happy, so fucking relieved that I don't even care that it's Malfoy.

I think my voice shakes with emotion when I say:

"Yeah…we are."

-

Draco Malfoy has always been my rival, if not enemy. "Hate" would be enough to define our otherwise non existing relationship.

It doesn't matter, not anymore.

As surreal as it may sound, even to my own ears, he's now my ally on _this_.

And that's enough for me to accept redefining said non existing relationship…

…'Cause he believes me when Harry just rolls his eyes and Hermione gives me lectures…

He's now my only ally. And no, Luna does _not _count.

"Now, what?" I ask.

"Now, we figure out _who_'s doing the watching."

As if I hadn't thought of _that _before. But that doesn't matter, 'cause before, it was just me. It was me and my thoughts and that feeling I chose to trust and it didn't matter, 'cause after all was said and done, it _was _just _me_.

Now, he's here too. And in the pit of his being, the exact same feeling.

"How?" I ask.

"You really are clueless, aren't you Weasel?"

Asshole.

We head to the library. We'll start researching, he says, walking in long strides.

I follow.

When we come in, we run into Hermione. I'm not surprised; the library is her sanctuary. She looks shocked; whether it is because I actually set foot in the library or because of the company whom I came in with is still to be determined.

I spare her a smile and follow Malfoy further inside.

The thing is I'm not the only one who's clueless. He doesn't know which sections to check for the right books. Hell, he doesn't even know what are the right books.

And neither do I.

We spend a couple of minutes looking around, lost. Well, _I _look lost; _he _actually manages to make himself look busy looking for something specific. Head held high like that, he looks like a peacock with diarrhea, if you ask me…He doesn't.

He throws a seething glare towards me and I shrug.

We part ways, he comes back with a pile of books in his arms. I come back with none.

"Idiot."

He throws one of his books at me.

"Start looking."

We sit together at a table and he immediately opens a huge book and delves right in.

I take time to read the title of my book. "Watched" it says, and I can already tell that I won't find anything worthy of my time in it but I still open the first page.

I was right.

It's about how the eyes of others set upon you effect you…How it makes you feel like you need to meet their expectations and wear a mask to be whom you're supposed to be, whom you're not…Quotes from Sartre and other philosophers, muggles and wizards alike…

And though I find myself agreeing with some of what's written, it doesn't get me far with my research.

"This is crap." I tell Malfoy.

He looks up and glares.

"Right. I'll go find myself an other one, then." I say, somewhat sheepishly.

He glares harder so I go.

It's weird, you know. That Malfoy and I would _know_ when no one else does and that Malfoy,of all people, would believe me. Well, he did say that it had nothing to do with me, that he had had the same feeling that something wasn't right…never was…

He also said that I was stupid.

-

It becomes a ritual, of sort. Everyday, after the courses are over, Malfoy and I meet at the library, pick up books and sit together.

No progress is made.

The really weird thing though is that Malfoy keeps trying to make conversation. And positively _sucks_ at it.

It started in our third "study" session with an innocent:

"Call me Draco"

"Why?" I ask, puzzled.

"No need for formality" he answers.

"Why?"

"…"

He seems to be chocking on his insults, swallowing them before they see light. Why is he trying so hard to be pleasant to _me_ anyway?

Maybe he sees me as his only ally too. Maybe his friends/followers didn't believe him either. Maybe he's just trying to be nice… and maybe I should too…

"Forget it" he says, finally.

"You can call me Ron" I say.

A nod. I don't smile but I want to.

After that, he starts asking me about my day. It's never direct and he always manages to decorate his inquiry with colorful insults, but…inquiry there is where there shouldn't be in the first place. He often complains about his day too. And asks questions, offhandedly, as if it doesn't matter. Asks about my favorite quidditch teams, "those losers", how I spend my time, "with scarehead and the muddblood, huh?" and my favorite food, "I bet it's chocolate".

"It's not chocolate"

"Don't you like chocolate?"

"That's not what I said; I love chocolate"

Next thing I know, he throws something at my face.

"You assh…!!!!"

Yes, it's chocolate.

-

In the meanwhile, our research is not going far. I try and try and read all the books I suspect of being remotely close to what we're experiencing…to no avail. There aren't many books that _could_ have much to do with it, anyway. That's why I find it a bit strange that Draco is always swamped in a pile of books when I have to spend the first twenty minutes or so looking for a book that looks promising enough. What more is, he doesn't even let me take a look at the books he chooses to read…

"Hogsmeade weekend is coming up."

He says it as if it doesn't matter, as if it's only to fill the silence.

Except that Draco Malfoy never says anything just to fill the silence. And sure enough, when I look up, he's peeking at me from the corner of his eyes. His eyes are gray _gray…_

"I know."

"Well?"

He sounds annoyed. I wonder why…

"Well what?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes, as if to say "you're hopeless".

"_Well_…will you be there?"

"I don't know. Why?"

If looks could kill…Why is he so mad at me, anyway? Am I missing something?

Oh.

"Oh!"

He shakes his head as realization downs.

"You're asking me if I'll be there…so that we could…um…meet? Right?"

A nod.

He wants to be friends! He just couldn't say so, seeing as he's socially constipated and all…Oh well, I think it's sweet. And frankly, I don't mind. If he's my ally, he can be my friend… I even tell him so…

"You can be my friend."

My smile is genuine and, really, I don't understand why he snaps his book shut and storms out.

He forgets a book, though. I pick it up, read the title, and it's like a hit in the chest.

"Paranoia" it says.


	3. Chapter Three

SORRY for such delay in posting this. It's cause the story had been delated from my computer and, being the incredibly lazy person that i am, it took me this long to rewrite. Anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't forget to review, tel me what you think.

Also, Do You guys think my Ron and Draco are OCs?

On to the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own. Rowling does.

I know people think me thick, God knows Hermione states it often enough. In which case, there must be some truth in it. Thick, slow, stupid, unintelligent, mentally challenged...my wits are doubted, at best. And that just makes it that much harder for me to simply _think_, since i have very little faith in my own mental capacities.

Also, it gives me a headache.

From this perspective, i can see how Malfoy would think he could deceive me and get away with it.

"Paranoia", the book said. Which meant that Draco thinks of me as paranoid. Which meant that he didn't believe me. Which meant that he had lied (and lied and lied his pointy ass off).

But...why?

To get close to me, that much was obvious from his recent attempts at weird somewhat friendly Malfoy-ish interaction. Again, why?

To get close to Harry.

That semi-conclusion stung.

I toss the password at the fat lady and stumble into the common room, a frown on my face. I look around and find the room empty, as well it should be at past midnight, with the exception of Harry and Hermione's presence.

They're huddled close to the fireplace and my frown deepens as my "lecture-time" radars advice me to flee.

Too late. Harry's green eyes have already captured mine and he beckons me with his head.

I oblige.

"Harry, Hermione...hey."

I force a smile.

"Sit" Hermione whispers after clearing her throat."We need to talk."

Before my bum makes contact with the couch, Hermione's already speaking.

"...very worried. This nonsense of yours has lasted long enough, Ron, don't you think?"

Her voice is admonishing and i hate it, hate the sound of it, hate that it's addressed to me.

Hate the words it's speaking.

"Where were you ?" asks Harry. "Not with Malfoy, i hope? Not again!"

"What if i was?" I reply with a defiance i don't feel at the moment.

"He's a slytherin!" Harry whispers harshly, almost before i complete my sentence. " Forget that, he's _Malfoy_, for God's sake!" and then, a disbelieving "Bloody hell, Ron, he's possibly a death eater!"

"Harry, language!" Admonishes Hermione while nodding her head in a funny way, as if to agree despite the crudeness.

" I know what his name is!" I quip somewhat defensively.

"And so...what now? you're going to say that he's really not all that bad? Just a poor misunderstood soul with a kind heart underneath those layers and layers and _layers_ of cold gruesome disgusting cruelty?"

Hermione's nodding is frantic, now. It makes me worry about her dislodging her neck. And Harry's looking at me expectantly, waiting to see where i stand on the "Malfoy" issue, and i want to tell him "YES", just to see his face, i _do_. But.

How can i when i'm confused and have all these newly arisen doubts and have just come to realize the possibility that i'm being used?

So i settle for a groan.

"What was that, mate?" Harry asks after a bewildered silence. " 'You speacking troll now?"

He smiles at that and so do i. Hermione stops nodding and uses a hand to massage her neck.

She doesn't look amused.

"Ron." she says.

She has my attention but still feels the need to sigh the sigh of the weary and repeat her "_Ron"_ in a "you better listen to me, and listen good" kind of way.

"Yeah?" i grunt.

"Where were you?" She repeats. "You can't have been at the library with Malfoy, it's long past curfew and the library closed hours ago..."

"Out. I was out."

"You were out?"

She rolls the "out" on her tongue as if to taste the sound of it, then clips her mouth disapprovingly.

"Alone?"

" Yeah. I was thinking."

I level my eyes to theirs, daring them to laugh at that. They don't.

She sighs again.

"We were worried about you."

She says it with a tone that makes me want to feel ashamed for worrying them, and it's Harry's turn to nod so i scratch the back of my neck self consciously and mutter a "Sorry."

Hermione shakes her head.

"I don't mean just now, Ron. I mean, everything. Since you started that weird rubbish about being watched and whatnot, you've changed."

"And not for the better." Harry supplies. " You're constantly distracted. Even when playing _Quidditch_!"

"Even worse, you're not paying attention to the _lessons_!"

"And you're hanging with Malfoy, from all people."

"Going on and on about things that don't exist. Ron. Ron. _Ron..."_

And here her voice goes soft around the edges, eyes caring and...

"...Is attention what you're after?"

I can feel the tips of my ears going red.

"What?...No! I don't...It's not..."

Embbarassement at first, then indignation. But i'm not given the chance to voice it.

"Then _what_ is it? Just...what?"

She seems frustrated to not understand, probably a first for her. Just as well.

"Are you scared? Is that it, Ron? You can tell us. I mean it _is_ perfectly understandable to be a bit put off by all that's happening. With Voldem-"

I cringe.

" Oh for the love of...! Fine! With You know who gaining power and the prospect of war and it's okay to be..."

" What? A coward?"

I snap, a bit too harshly. But it's hard, hard, hard to reign my temper when they're both sitting there criticizing my actions of late, accusing me of seeking attention and of cowardice. Yes, that wasn't exactly the word she used but it is what she meant, because we're all scared, anyway. So, for me to be singled out on that foundation _must_ mean that...

" That's not fair, Ron! That's not what i said, nor is it what i meant."

Would she have suspected Harry of being "scared"?

"Hermione, he's not scared."

At that, i snap my attention to Harry. The green of his eyes is intense, i notice, not for the first time.

"You're not." He says again, as if i don't know.

" Yeah."

"And you're not crazy either." He adds, looking uncertain.

"I'm not."

He claps his two hands together, smiling.

"Then it's settled. We will forget about everything that's happened. You will stop seeing Malfoy, stop that crap about being stalked or whatever and go back to your old self, because, Ron, i have _so_ much on my plate right now, the last thing i need is-"

"The last thing _you _need? When did the conversation lead us to where it always does, revolving around you?"

I can't help the tremor in my voice, the shake in my hand, the flush in my cheeks. How bitter i sound, even to my own ears. How jealous, a childish urge from old resentments not quite forgotten. How frustrated, because they still don't believe me, they still won't even consider it and this, right here...this conversation was just a vicious cycle and we were back to the starting point.

"Ron!"

Hermione's outraged, it seems. And Harry's got this look on him, this kind of undecised mix of hurt and confusion, his response to being called self centered or selfish or any other adjective that i know he's not, not on purpose, but can't convince myself to feel accordingly.

And it's not even about that, is it? It's about them not believing me, not trying and _why won't they even pretend?_

Even if i end up being wrong, which i _know _i'm not, but even if. They should still _try_, because we always do things together, and when left alone, i'm a mess. I can't even think right, years and years of believing that i'm no good at that, not unless i'm playing chess. And where does that leave me? An easy target to the likes of Draco Malfoy, should he decide to play nice and say "i believe you" and make me almost-maybe like him, that's where.

I stand up and dust my robe from invisible dirt, catch myself doing it, remember that it's a Draco signature move and stop my hand abruptly.

Harry blinks at me and Hermione averts her eyes.

"Listen..." i say. "I don't want to fight. So i'm just gonna go to sleep now, ok?"

Hermione sighs but doesn't try to stop me.

"Good night" Harry says quietly.

"Yeah, you too."

Sleep comes as soon as i set my head on the pillow.

I wake up and the dormitory's empty.

I'm late for breakfast and i hurry to catch it, because i'm a growing boy and need the food, especially if i'm to confront Draco tonight.

The day goes by as any typical friday would, with points taken from our house at Potions, with chitchats and small talk and stifled laughter at Seamus's jokes, with somewhat awkward silences with Harry and Hermione as the conversation from yesterday looms and is ignored, and with plans for the Hogsmeade trip for tomorrow.

The last class is Herbology and goes by swiftly, and i find myself sitting at my usual corner at the library with only one book at sight.

Waiting.

And here he comes, long strides and haughty chin up in the air and i want to hit him.

"Ron."

He nods in acknowledgment and i nod back, mouth set in a firm line. His left eyebrow lifts as he notes my cold greeting.

"We need to talk" i whisper, to avoid unwanted attention from the students looming around us, surprised still, even after two weeks, to see a Weasley and Malfoy together without blows beiing exchanged. To avoid Mrs Pince's glares too, come to think of it.

"Do we now?"

He is calm and it unnerves me. Reminds me of the "why"s of our usual fights (before _before_), a constant pulse of anger.

He takes a seat in front of me, our knees brushing.

"About?"

"This."

I show him the book he forgot the day before.

Paranoia.

"How do you explain this?" I ask, whispers going harsh. "You said you believed me! You said you felt it too!"

I hate the betrayal that slowly seeps into my voice. But he hasn't lost his composure and it makes me more angry.

"I don't care", his whole stance seems to scream. "About you", my mind supplies helpfully. And my heart seems to find that particular thought quite hurtful, for some unknown reason.

"It was all a scheme, wasn't it? You used me to get to Harry! You wanted information-"

"That is ridiculous, Ron and you know it!"

"Is it? _Is it?_"

I try to say it like a person who _knows_ would, but i don't think i pull it off, since Draco's staring at me with both his eyebrows now shot upwards, the beginning of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. And it strikes me, again, how actually really worked out about this i am (and he's not) and what the hell am i doing, anyway? Talking to him, trying to understand, _hoping_ that it's all a misunderstanding? Caring? How the hell did i get to this ridiculous here and now?

He sighs and shakes his head.

"How many times did i ask you about Potter, then?"

"Huh?"

" Think, you...you idiot! How many times did i ask you about him,these past couple of weeks?"

So i think back and...

"Not one time." he says at the same time as i think it. "I haven't tried to withdraw information from you, you poor excuse of an individual. Therefore, your line of thought is flawed and false. Therefore, you are an ape."

I shrug the insults off and shake my head, stubborn.

"Okay, so, maybe, you're not trying to get to Harry, but there _must_ be some horrible reason why you-"

"Why? Why must there be such a reason?"

"Because..because you're...you."

He snorts.

"Very nicely worded."

"Fine! Because you're Draco Malfoy and you're evil and your father is a death eater and Harry-thinks-that-maybe-you-are-too!"

Silence oppresses. Then Draco's pointy chin is held so high his nose is practically horizontal, his cheeks are red and eyes are intense.

"Potter is wrong. I am not my father, Weasel and i bow to no one."

So much pride in his voice, even though his head held like that looks silly and somewhat painful. So much pride and i feel it tugging at my chest, a surge of...something. Respect, i'll call it, because he deserves as much.

I nod and find out that all of my anger has seeped away.

"So...you didn't lie?" I ask, hopeful despite myself.

"Why would i?"

An echo to my own questions on the matter. And as long as an "i don't know" is all i can come up with, i can only believe him.

"The book..." i add, hesitant.

"-Was for my personal reading, of course. Why you would think it had anything with you, Ron, is beyond me. Even if i thought you to be paranoid -which we've just established that i don't- why on earth would i _research _it? Why would i care? Why would i-?"

"Yeah, okay, i get it" I interrupt, because he's right, and i feel stupid, stupid, stupid and it had seemed so obvious it was about me that i hadn't even considered the fact that it probably wasn't. Isn't.

He's still flushed and i've just insulted him, haven't i?

"Hm...sorry." i offer, somewhat sheepishly, and nudge his foot with mine. The contact startles him and he looks me in the eyes, opens his mouth and shuts it, like a fish out of water.

Finally, he shrugs and i smile.

So we sit in silence after picking some more books and resume our fruitless research.

"There's no point." i say, two hours into it.

I look up to find out that Draco had been doing his charms homework.

"The fuck?" i sputter.

"Shh."

Mrs Pince glares a hole in my head and i mutter an apology then turn my own glare at Draco.

"The fuck are you doing?" i mutter more quietly.

"Homework."

He gives me an "what of it" look, amused.

"I can see that, you git! But why are you not looking for leads on the-"

"There's no point, you just said so yourself."

"YEAH BUT-"

"Shhhhhhh"

"Sorry. -but it doesn't mean we should give up. I don't want to live my whole life with the knowledge that i'm being watched and not do anything about it, just because we can't find anything in this stupid library!"

"Who said anything about giving up, Weasel? We're just not looking in the right place, i suspect."

"And what do you suggest, _Ferret_? To laze around and do our homework?"

"No. To get our homework over with, so that we can sneak back here at night and pay a little visit to the restricted section."

He looks smug to have come up with it, the prat, so i refrain from showing any enthusiasm.

We part as the library closes with the promise to meet back there at half past midnight.

" And bring Potter's invisibility cloak." he says.


End file.
